Two pairs of slippers left unworn at the doorstep:

the white ones, looking like a woman's feet with floral prints

carved on its straps.

They appeared like two lonely lovers

one head tilted over the other or perhaps,

a man kissed by his lady

the black ones, with strong etched lines on the soles resembling

that of a dinosaur's backbone were wedged two feet away from each other

as if protecting the white pair of slippers-

the other foot stepped forward in a slant position

with its tip touching the edge of the molave door

when the wind knocked the door closed,

it dragged the black slipper away from its lover

they seemed like a frozen journey of footsteps—

the way my husband left me for a girl.

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